Actual Reality
by bohemiankat
Summary: One of Professor Collins' students from MIT comes for a visit.
1. MIT

A/N: Told from the point of view of an original character, Nick. Nick is a student of Professor Collins'.  
  
Nick  
  
I sat uneasily in my chair before the MIT Computer-Age Philosophy department director, a stern  
  
man called Professor Banks. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, and sighed heavily. "Mr. Evans, I  
  
know you feel otherwise, but I made the best possible decision at the time. I agree; Professor Collins is a  
  
brilliant man. But we cannot have our professors advocating irresponsible acts such as the reprogramming  
  
of the virtual reality equipment in question. I know you were in on it somehow, on some level, but I have  
  
no concrete proof." I smiled. He was right, of course, but like he said. No concrete proof; can't blame  
  
anything on me. "Wait, why am I justifying my actions for the benefit of a mere child?" He looked down  
  
his nose at me, just daring me to say something in reply.  
  
"Perhaps, because you know, as do I, that you shouldn't have fired Professor Collins. You're just  
  
trying to convince yourself that you're in the right." His gray eyes flicker; I can tell I've made him quite  
  
angry. He takes a deep breath, and I can hear him slowly exhale while counting backwards from ten.  
  
"Because you're one of the department's best students, according to test scores, not behavior,  
  
mind you, I'm going to disregard that. Nick, your professors tell me that not only are your grades slipping,  
  
but they also say you've been disrupting classes. Maybe you would be happier somewhere else?" I leaned  
  
back in my chair.  
  
"You're tellin' me."  
  
"Might I suggest we transfer you to another university for the semester, and see if things don't  
  
improve? Do you have anywhere in mind?" He had hardly finished his sentence before I broke in.  
  
"NYU."  
  
"Very well. Go and pack your things. And bear in mind, these are special circumstances."  
  
"Indeed, they are." I ran from the office and bounded across campus; New York, here I come.  
  
A/N: Okay. Did you like it? Hate it? Sorry the first chapter is so short, I just had to establish the fact that my original character, Nick, was a student of Collins' at MIT, and that he would soon be going to New York City. 


	2. I arrive at NYU

"Class dissmissed." Said the professor, with his usual air- half glad we were going, half sad to see  
  
us go. I walked up to his desk, and waited for him to look up from the papers he was shuffling.  
  
"Nick?"  
  
"Collins?"  
  
"Professor Collins." He corrected, grinning. "I was a little surprised to see you on my class list  
  
this morning." He chuckled. "How've you been?"  
  
"Banks transferred me here, because he didn't want me stirring up any more trouble. People were  
  
starting to ask why you'd been fired, and he got nervous, so here I am. Hadn't heard from you in awhile,  
  
so I'm glad you're still teaching here, y'know? Thought maybe I was too late, and another school had  
  
already snapped you up."  
  
"Nah, I've decided to settle down in New York, until something compels me to do otherwise, I  
  
guess."  
  
"That's good."  
  
"Yeah. So, where you staying?" Ah, the one thing I hadn't yet arranged. It was too expensive for  
  
me to pay for on-campus lodging, or an apartment in the city. I was kind of thinking about trying my luck  
  
sleeping on a park bench or in a classroom, or something.  
  
"That's what I was going to ask. You mind if I camp out in here tonight?"  
  
"Yeah, I mind. Come crash at our place, until ya find somewhere else. C'mon, I can introduce  
  
you to some of my friends." As we walked through the hallways and eventually out the door into the cold  
  
air, I asked,  
"Our? Explain 'our.'" I arched my eyebrows.  
  
"Yeah, I'm living at my boyfriend's place. Angel."  
  
"And he doesn't mind your bringing home random students to come crash on the couch?"  
  
"Angel? Hell, no. He loves helping people. That's how we met, actually. When I came back to  
  
New York, on Christmas Eve, some idiots beat me up and left me lying on the sidewalk. and Angel found  
  
me." A smile crept across his face, like it did just about every time he said the word 'Angel.'  
  
"In that case, thanks. Can't wait to meet him, and your other friends. From what you told me  
  
about them in Boston, they seemed like an interesting crew."  
  
"Oh, they are. And you don't have to wait. We're here." By here, I guess he meant the corner of 11th and Avenue B. A run-down apartment building loomed in front of us. I followed Collins up to the  
  
third floor, and watched as he knocked on one of the doors.  
  
A guy with spiky blond hair, holding a camera opened it.  
  
"Hey, Collins. and person standing behind Collins! C'mon in!"  
  
"Mark, this is Nick. He was in one of my classes at MIT. Helped with the Actual Reality  
  
project."  
  
"Ah, very cool. In that case, c'mon in, Nick. Welcome to the Loft." Inside, the Loft was small,  
  
sparsely furnished, maybe a couch or a chair or two, with a trashcan in the room's center being the focal  
  
point, or so it seemed. On the couch, a tall young man with even spikier blond hair sat tuning his guitar.  
  
Next to him, on the floor, a girl- she looked about my age- sat flipping channels on the beat-up old TV set.  
  
I could hear two girls' voices from the next room over, shouting at each other- they sounded angry.  
  
"Nick, this is Roger Davis, and Mimi Marquez. You already met Mark."  
  
"Nice t' meet you, Nick."  
  
"Yeah. Who are you, again?"  
  
"He's a student of mine." I looked quizzically at Collins.  
  
"Who are the people next door?"  
  
"That's Maureen and Joanne. Don't worry, they argue a lot. Nothing serious."  
  
"Oh." I made myself comfortable on a chair that had had most of the stuffing knocked out of it,  
  
seemingly long ago. Collins did the same.  
  
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Mimi asked.  
  
"What do you say we all meet at the Life around eight, and go to the 9:30 Life Support?"  
  
"Sounds good. Who's all coming."  
  
"Well, for sure Angel and I. And Nick, if he wants to come."  
  
"Okay." I agreed, not knowing what exactly I'd just agreed to.  
  
"I'll come." Volunteered Mark.  
  
"We'll come, too!" Shouted a voice from next door. Thin walls are creepy.  
  
"I'm there. And I'm dragging Roger along, whether he likes it, or not." Mimi laughed an evil  
  
laugh.  
  
"Not. I don't wanna go to some stupid--"  
  
"It's not stupid, honey." Roger thought for a moment.  
  
"You're stupid." Mimi elbowed him in the ribs.  
  
"You're going." And that was that. Presently, the door opened and in walked yet another new  
  
person for me to meet. Collins stood, and kissed this new person on the cheek.  
  
"Nick, meet Angel."  
  
"Hi, Angel." I waved.  
  
"Hi. Honey, who's Nick?"  
  
"A student. He's gonna come stay at our place until he finds somewhere else, kay?"  
  
"Sure. You don't mind sleeping on a couch, do you?"  
  
"Not at all. I was fully prepared to camp out under a desk at school tonight."  
  
"Well, in that case, let's go home. See you guys later tonight, kay?" We walked out the door, and  
  
downstairs. Suddenly, my beeper went off.. AZT break. 


	3. Out Tonight

Back at the apartment that Angel and the Professor shared, I set my stuff down on the floor by the couch. Angel handed me some sheets.  
  
"There ya go, hon. Make yerself comfortable."  
  
"Thanks, Angel." I took them, and threw myself down on the couch. It felt great just to sit. Collins sat down next to me.  
  
"So... You been taking your AZT regularly, Nick?"  
  
"When I can afford to." I replied.  
  
"If you give me a copy of your prescription, I could fill it for you." He glanced at Angel. "I was just about to go pick up our meds, so..." I dug a crumpled up copy of my prescription out of my pocket, and shoved it into Collins' hand.  
  
"You know I can't pay you back, right? You don't have to do this."  
  
"It will be taken care of." He stated. Hmm, very cryptic.  
  
"Thanks, professor."  
  
"Don't mention it. And you can call me Collins, outside of school."  
  
"Thanks, Collins." With that said, he ducked out the door. I thought about dozing off, but decided against it- then I wouldn't be tired when I was actually supposed to go to sleep. Instead, I reached into my backpack and pulled out my Computer-Age Philosophy notebook. Angel, who had been in the   
  
kitchen, sat down in a chair across the room from me.  
  
"Whatcha doin'?" He asked.  
  
"Looking at some old notes, from when Collins taught at MIT."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Wanna see?" I asked him. I could tell he was just dying to be asked.  
  
"Sure." He crossed the room and sat down next to me, craning his neck to see the papers I was reading. "...Therefore, because man created machine, man is smarter than machine." He read. "That actually makes sense. Did Collins teach you that?"  
  
"Yep. That was the closing of one of his lectures last year. Kinda cool, huh?"  
  
"Very cool." We pored over that page for awhile; Angel read everything on it. I flipped a few pages ahead- crammed between a blueprint of the Computer-Age Philosophy wing and an old report card of mine was a Polaroid snapshot of six people sitting on the floor of a classroom, having lunch. I tried to hide it behind my back, but Angel noticed, and brought it closer to his face to study.  
  
"What's this?" He asked.  
  
"A picture of project Actual Reality. There's Collins." I pointed Collins out, in the center of the picture.   
  
"Damn, he looks different!" Angel pointed at the picture again. "There's you, Nick."  
  
"Yep, there's me." There was a pause, as I looked a younger version of myself in the face.  
  
"Who are the rest of these people?"  
  
"Want the short story, or the long one?"  
  
"We got time. Long story." I sighed. I hate the long story.  
  
"Might as well begin at the beginning. My mom had AIDS, and she passed it on to me when I was born. When I was little, not that long ago, people still didn't know much about AIDS, so people were afraid to let their kids play with me, or come over to my house. They thought you could get AIDS by being near an infected person." Angel shook his head. "Well, this left me a lot of time to sit up in my room and mess around on the computer. I was fascinated by computers, and wanted to learn everything I could about them. That led me to MIT.  
  
"In my freshman year, I was in a sophomore Computer-Age Philosophy class, and every day after class, these four kids would sit on the floor and eat together. One day, I got up the nerve to ask them why they did that. As it turns out, they all had AIDS, too, and invited me to join them, when I explained my situation. Patrick, Lena, Marv, and Kelly." I pointed them out in the picture, for Angel's benefit. "When our professor, Banks, got promoted to department chair, they began to search for a replacement for him- and found Collins. On his first day, our class was so mean to him. Seriously, by lunch, he looked like he was about to cry... He probably wanted to march up to the dean's office and resign on the spot. Then, he saw the five of us eating on the floor, asked us what the hell we were doing, and we invited him to join us. It wasn't until we heard his AZT beeper go off, a few days later, that we knew he had AIDS, too.  
  
"When we all got to be pretty close, Collins told us about these plans he had for reprogramming the Virtual Reality equipment, and asked us to help; it was called Project: Actual Reality--" I trailed off.  
  
"So, what happened? Did everyone help with the project?"  
  
"No." I sighed. "Marv was transferred to another school. Lena quit. Kelly went into the hospital before Actual Reality was finished, and Patrick...died."  
  
"I'm sorry..."   
  
"We ended up finishing the project by ourselves."  
  
"And the rest, as you say, is history." Joked Collins, who was standing right behind me. How long had he been standing there, and how much had he heard? "I got the AZT, you guys." He tossed us each a bottle with our names and prescription on the label.  
  
"Thanks, Collins."  
  
"Thanks, Honey!"  
  
"No problem. You guys ready to go out?"  
  
*~~*  
  
The Life Café was busy and crowded when we arrived. Mark, Roger, and Mimi had already staked out a table towards the back. I assumed the two women sitting next to them were Maureen and Joanne. I grabbed a seat between Angel and Roger, and sat back as Mark ordered some stuff for everybody. Maureen leaned across the table.  
  
"Maureen Johnson. What's your name, pookie?" Oke-ey, then. Maybe Maureen calls everyone pookie... I hope.  
  
"Nick Evans. Collins' student." She giggled.  
  
"A college boy, huh?" I was about to nod my head, when Roger spoke up in my defense.  
  
"You're scarin' the kid, Mo. Leave him alone." She stuck her tongue out at him, and looked offended.  
  
A waiter came and put some vegetarian dish I'd never seen or heard of before in front of me. I'd been surviving off of airline food since yesterday, and this, whatever it was, was a welcome break. It was actually pretty good, and I cleaned my plate like I hadn't eaten in years. When it looked like everyone was finished, Roger, Mark, Mimi, Angel, Collins, and I stood up from the table.  
  
"You guys comin', or what?"  
  
"Nah. See ya tomorrow, or something. Kay?" So Maureen and Joanne headed home, while the rest of us headed to Life Support. It occurred to me that I still didn't know what the hell Life Support was, but I figured I'd find out soon enough...  
  
*~~*  
  
"David."  
  
"Tim.  
  
"Kasey."  
  
"Steve."  
  
"Mark."  
  
"Roger."  
  
"Mimi."  
  
"Tom...Collins..."  
  
"Angel."  
  
"Uh, Nick?"  
  
"I'm Paul, let's begin." From what I could gather, this was some kind of support group. For most of the meeting, I watched as Paul posed questions to people- really hard questions, about feelings and stuff. He nailed Roger with a few that I don't think I could've answered- I hate being put on the spot like that. However reluctantly, Roger was dragged into the discussion. I was proud of myself for remaining pretty much inconspicuous until about the last five minutes or so. Paul turned to me.  
  
"How do you feel today, Nick?"  
  
"I'm fine, thanks for asking. How are you?" Looking back, maybe that wasn't the best thing I could've said.   
  
"Are you? Are you really fine? Or, is 'fine' just a word we all use everyday to avoid discussing our feelings?" He asked, in a slow, calm manner- rather unnerving. Throws ya off guard, y'know? I finally found a word for what I was feeling.  
  
"How do you really feel today?"  
  
"Pensive." I stated.   
  
"How so?"  
  
"I've been remembering people, and thinking about them. Pensive." I said, again, fidgeting under Paul's gaze. He smiled, much to my surprise.  
  
"Thanks for sharing, Nick. And nice work today, you all. See ya next meeting."  
  
We all filed slowly out of the building, and reconvened on the sidewalk by a park bench.  
  
"I'm tired!" Angel yawned.  
  
"I'll take you home." Collins kissed him on the cheek and wrapped an arm around his waist. Mark, who had been pretty quiet, spoke up.  
  
"I gotta get home to work on my film."  
  
"Who wants to go get drinks, or something?" Asked Mimi.  
  
"Me!" Yelled Roger.  
  
"Can I come?" I asked.  
  
"I don't wanna play babysitter tonight, kid."  
  
"Thanks, but I can babysit myself. I'm 19."  
  
"No joke? Me too!"  
  
"I'm the same age as your girlfriend. You have to let me come, now."  
  
"Fine." He sighed reluctantly. "Collins, we're taking the kid with us, kay?" He nodded his head.  
  
"Have him home by two, alright, you guys?"  
  
"No problem!" Mimi shouted at Collins' and Angel's retreating backs.  
  
"Looks like daddy has you following a curfew, huh?"  
  
"Shut up. He's not my dad."  
  
"Whatever. Let's go."  
  
*~~*  
  
"This *hic* tastes funny." I took a swig of my coke; Roger giggled drunkenly. That couldn't have been a good sign.  
  
"Define 'funny'." He grinned at Mimi.  
  
"You... You poisoned me." I pointed a finger accusingly at him, then turned to Mimi. "Did you help?" I asked her. I was so nauseous, I couldn't think straight if my life had depended on it.   
  
"Poison? Far from it."  
  
"Yeah, kid." Roger managed to choke out, between bouts of laughter. "You make a real funny drunk." My jaw dropped.   
  
"You people spiked my coke?" We dissolved into fits of hysterical laughter. Wow, we were drunk. After a while, Mimi managed to choke out,  
  
"We gotta get you home before Collins kills us. It's almost three."  
  
"Kay, just one more eensy-weensy, teeny-tiny sip?" I didn't wait for her approval, and chugged the entire contents of my glass- coke and... whatever else was in there, before allowing myself to be dragged out of the bar. The walk home was difficult- we were all too smashed to walk, so, positively drunk off our asses, we stumbled back to Collins and Angel's, holding each other up by the arms the entire time. I passed out on the floor next to the couch, leaving Roger and Mimi to get home by themselves.  
  
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. Y'all rock! I'm off to write more... The next chapter is going to be an attempt at humor... 


	4. Shopping with Angel

When I groggily opened my eyes, Angel was hovering over me, about six inches from my face. Honestly, he was buzzing around like a giant pink hummingbird. Too much coffee will do that to ya... Sunlight was streaming through the windows, and reflected off of the sparkles on Angel's dress, temporary blinding me, in my hung-over state.   
  
"Ow, too shiny!" I shielded my face, realizing that someone had moved me to the couch without my noticing. The last thing I remembered was passing out on the floor. I heard Collins' voice, about ten times its usual volume.  
  
"Honey, give Nick some room to breathe." Angel, still looking concerned, stepped back a few feet. Collins paused for a second. "We need to talk about this arrangement." I nodded my agreement. "Nick, you know you're welcome here, but there hafta be some rules. First, no drinking till you're 21, alright? Hangovers suck."  
  
"No shit..."  
  
"Second, no staying out too late on school nights."   
  
"Hey, this is Saturday, isn't it?" I hoped...  
  
"Yeah, that one was just for future reference. Third, whatever happens outside the classroom, doesn't go back into the classroom."  
  
"What about homework?" I joked.  
  
"Well, obviously... But, you get what I mean, right?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Good. Now for the easy stuff. Is that backpack all you brought to New York?" He indicated the backpack at my feet.  
  
"Yeah, I pack light."  
  
"I see. Anyway, you gotta get some more clothes today. You don't smell so great."  
  
"I appreciate your honesty." I laughed.   
  
"You can wait a few hours, and I can take you shopping, or you can go with Angel. 'S up to you." I looked from one to the other. Angel kept mouthing the words, 'pick me, pick me!'  
  
"I'll go with Angel."  
  
"Alright. Listen, I gotta go to a meeting. Later, Nick. Bye, Love!" He kissed Angel good bye, and ducked out the door.   
  
"Hurry up, we don't wanna be late for the big sale!" Big sale? My head hurt already...  
  
*~~*  
  
So that's how I found myself, about half an hour later, in some Godforsaken little store on the other side of town, accompanied by Angel, Mimi, and Maureen. Occasionally Angel would find a sparkly shirt, or something, and show it to me- he kept forgetting that sparkles hurt your eyes the morning after you pass out drunk.  
  
"Maybe I should've gone with Collins..." I mumbled; Angel heard me.  
  
"Trust me, honey. If you went shopping with Collins, you'd be...two guys lost in a store. I love him, but the man does not know how to shop!"   
  
"And you do?"  
  
"Yeah!" He gestured at his outfit, and Mimi and Maureen nodded knowingly.  
  
"Okay. Great. But can we please go somewhere where they sell guy clothes, now? Please?" Angel just laughed, and looked from Mimi to Maureen, who also found something about my request incredibly amusing.  
  
"Where do you think you are, honey?"   
  
"Huh?" Now what the hell was that supposed to mean? I scanned the room, looking a little more closely at the customers- mostly girls. No, not girls... Drag queens. "I would really like to be elsewhere."  
  
After Angel finished looking around, deciding that most of the clothes were outrageously priced, for something he could probably make himself, I convinced him to take us to a store that sold jeans and t-shirts, and there was much rejoicing. I bought lunch for everyone at a hot dog stand outside the store with my last few dollars, and we headed back to the loft.  
  
*~~*  
  
"Enter Nick, a hung-over Computer-Age Philosophy student. How was shopping?" Mark narrated, pointing his camera at me as soon as we got in the door.  
  
"Great. Now, would you turn that thing off?"  
  
"Fine." He sniffed, and switched the camera off. Roger, seated on the couch, picked out a tune on his guitar. I recognized it...  
  
"What's that, Muzetta's Waltz?" I asked. Angel, Mimi, Maureen, and I sat down by his feet.  
  
"How'd you know?"  
  
"Puccini's my favorite composer."  
  
"Yeah?" He strummed a dissonant chord. I furrowed my eyebrows; somehow, it was hard to picture Roger as an opera fan. "Don't get any ideas. My mom always listened to that stuff when I was a kid."   
  
"That explains a lot..." Maureen giggled. "Wait, isn't there a character named Mimi in one of Puccini's operas?"  
  
"Yeah. La Boheme..."  
  
"That's weird." Stated Roger. Very weird, indeed... 


End file.
